


Dead Man Walking

by Evax3



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Western, Multi, Rescue Missions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-23
Updated: 2019-06-23
Packaged: 2020-05-16 17:06:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19322449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Evax3/pseuds/Evax3
Summary: For the prompt: At some point Gendry and Robb definitely have to go bail Arya and Theon out of jail together in the middle of the night.





	Dead Man Walking

**Author's Note:**

> the prompt was posted by [the-wolfofstormsend](https://the-wolfofstormsend.tumblr.com/), who was so nice and allowed me to use it for this story. 
> 
> Unfortunately, it took on a life of its own and slightly strayed from the track, but just see for yourself :)
> 
> POVs:  
> \- Robb  
> \- Theon  
> \- Robb  
> \- Gendry  
> \- Rennick  
> \- Arya  
> \- Theon

The night was cold and clear, starlit, no breeze blew. The prison in front of them almost peaceful with its solid walls and thick iron bars, hard to believe what horror could happen inside.

Nobody noticed the two dark figures lying in the grass only a few meters away. There was only one guard sitting in front of the door, a shotgun over his knees.

"I say we storm the thing, break the door and kill the rest."

Robb shook his head. "There are more of them inside," his eyes continued to point to the lower cell, the one to the far right of them. "Risk is too high."

The truth was, he wouldn’t like anything more than what his brother-in-law suggested, he really did. Both of them plagued the same turmoil, every time, they stood in front of such a building. Some would think they got used to it by now.

"Bullshit, we're well armed and nobody sees us coming." Gendry got up but Robb pulled him down.

"We can't risk more of us getting arrested." He released his gaze and turned to the man next to him. "We stick to the plan."

Hopefully for the last time, but who was he kidding?

Gendry snorted. "If you’re dying to." He threw the rifle over his shoulder and straightened his hat, "but then let's find the others and get going."

–

The carriage arrived just as the sun was rising. Theon watched it through the bars in front of the window. Cigarette burning in the corner of his mouth as he drummed his hands against the brickwork. He hated the damn waiting.

"Stop being so tense."

He turned around, took a hard drag and squeezed the cigarette under his boot. Resting his back against the wall. It was cold and clammy, making his skin itch, although the sun shone strong enough here in the south to might melt it. "It can't be long now."

"And even if."

She lay on the cot, her hat pulled deep into her face, legs crossed, as if nothing in the world could make her move. As if Theon was the only thing disturbing, keeping her from sleeping. He smirked and turned back to the window. 

"Just hope they'll leave the damn donkey behind."

He didn't get an answer. Instead, there were sudden noises, coming from the front of the cell. "Well, finally," he breathed.

Arya sat up too, pushing her hat back with the tip of her finger. Eyes on the door. Focusing it like a cat focus' its prey.

Seconds passed, till keys flicked, and the lock opened.

Four soldiers in red uniforms stood in front of them, pistols pointed at their chest. "Put them on." They threw a pair of handcuffs at them.

For a second their eyes met. Theon knew too well; she could turn them off if she wanted to. _But not yet._ First, they had to find out where they had hidden the stone. So, both did as they were told, without any objections.

"And no funny business," one guard roared while the others drove them outside.

The sun dazzling, as they stepped into the barren courtyard, air hot and dusty. It was about fucking time, they got out of this filthy area.

Theon longed for a cool beer.

"And when you got it, you want the fucking adventure again," as if Arya had read his mind.

He took the steps into the carriage behind her, taking a seat to her left. "As though you were different."

It was one of the rare sights, when she actually grinned.

–

When they first went through with it, it had been Theon's plan.

At that time, Robb had been arrested in Winterfell. After he had shot a farmer, stopping him from almost beating his daughter to death. And then, on his way to the gallows, the others had played the trick. _The Dead Man._

"Okay, we need to get a move on. So, who's up this time?"

He looked into the grumpy faces of his comrades, but everyone avoided his gaze.

Some might say, they were a motley crew, as different as their origin, with the only common ground their strife with the government. But even there, each of them had his own reasons.

Thoros and Beric fought for their religion as Robb, Arya and Gendry for the revenge of the deaths of both their fathers.

It seemed Sandor only stuck to them, hating the rest of the world just more than he hated them.

And Theon, he actually had no problem with the Lannisters, but the Lannisters with him.  Probably because of all the gold he’d already stolen.

So finally, Thoros sat up, leaning forward, "I think it's Clegane's turn," boxing against the big man’s shoulder, "already looks dead, doesn’t he?"

"Oh, fuck yourself," Sandor grumbled and pointed to Beric, "why doesn't he do it?"

"Because he did it last time," Gendry didn’t even look up, while sharpening his knife with a stone. Checking, he held it up, but then decided to go on.

Robb rolled his eyes. "Well fine, then we'll draw."

He tore a tuft of grass from the side of the road and held it out to the others.

Gendry pulled first, the stalk being long. Thoros and Beric came after him, relief on their faces as they realized, they’d avoid the heavy part as well.

"Leaves it to us," Robb said, holding out his hand to the Hound.

Reluctantly he pulled one of the two stalks, his face the usual fierce mask. The stem was short though. Nobody said anything, while Robb opened his hand, a long piece of grass between his fingers.

Eventually, Beric came closer, placing a hand on Sandor’s arm. "I'm sure the Lord of Light ..."

"Get lost, Dondarrion. And shut the fuck up with your stupid lord." He pushed him away roughly. His body tense, even if he tried to hide it. But no one blamed him. Even if the odds were slim, who knew? And none of them wanted to die.

With heavy steps, Sandor put his holster in place, going in the direction of the horses. He didn't turn around again. "Better make sure you get there on time, or religion is your last problem," he murmured and rode off.

–

When the sun was at its highest, they took their place. Up on a hill from where they had the whole King's Road at a glance and would be able to recognize the carriage in time. Hopefully.

Scarves over their mouths, not just to protect themselves from the dusty air. Gendry thought it was ridiculous, as all the towns in the area were plastered with their wanted posters. But Robb insisted, every time.

By now, Sandor had positioned himself at the designated spot, lying in the middle of the sand on the ground, his eyes closed. Apparently dead.

"Maybe we should have taken the donkey again," he grumbled, causing Thoros to laugh.

"I can't tell the difference, do you?"

As Beric held a finger to his lips, Gendry heard it too.

Slowly appearing on the horizon, a cloud of dust, coming closer and closer. The sound of horses clattering mixed with the tyre of the carriage echoed through the gorge.

Until now, everything went according to plan.

"Well let's go then," he whispered and set himself in motion.

When the carriage stopped, they had to act fast, now every minute was crucial.

–

Rennick hated his job, ever since they started to ride the stupid carriage three years ago. Transporting prisoners was no easy matter and therefore he smelled trouble around every corner.

"We don't get enough money for this shit," he bitched and hit the reins even harder to spur the horses. He wanted to get out of the ravine as fast as he could, getting off this damn road, where bandits hid behind every second stone.

"Too bad you're too stupid to do anything else." The man to his next spitted and smacked him in the back of the head. Polliver was always there to mock him, having the easier part, just sitting there with his bloody riffle in his hands.

All he had to do was to keep an eye on their surroundings.

Rennick rubbed his neck. "Next time we switch."

"Over my dead body, " Polliver laughed but then stopped, "hey, what’s that?", pointing at a dark spot in the yellow sand, not far in front of them, there was something lying on the ground, growing bigger the closer they got. "Is it a corpse?"

And it looked like it, but the man was huge. He probably died of thirst, for what else could kill a beast like that?

Slowly Rennick brought the carriage to a standstill, when his boss already stuck his head out of the window. "What's going on?"

"There's a dead guy on the ground," Polliver called back, "or at least that's what he looks like." He jumped off and Rennick followed.

The face seemed kind of familiar to him, did he know the guy? Maybe an outlaw? That could bring some money. "We should take him with us." Leaning over him, looking more closely at his face, Rennick thought he knew these scars.

But when it finally came back to him, the dead man opened his eyes.

–

_Five minutes earlier_

Since they had left, the guy couldn't stop babbling, still all he said was nothing more than the hot air outside in the desert. Arya wanted to rip out his ridiculous goatee, but she had to be patient.

The guard next to him visibly nervous, hands trembling, and the sweat stood on his forehead. Baelish had introduced him as Lancel Lannister, the Sheriff's nephew, as if she cared.

It was this hot, the air blurring above the ground. Hopefully the future would take them to a colder place. And she had something in her teeth but couldn't move her tongue quite properly. It was fucking annoying, to say the least.

Baelish tapped his fingertips together. "How come we haven't met before?"

Arya exhaled just slightly, nothing bored her more than smalltalk.

She had already heard of him. Sandor called him a snake, once worked for some, then for others, loyal only to himself and the one with the biggest wallet. Which seemed to be Tywin Lannister at the time.

"We're not the sorts of people who like to meet with your kind that often," Theon smirked, causing Baelish to smile in return. It was as greasy as his polished boots.

"And yet you do it quite often as I hear," he leaned a little more in Theon’s direction. "It is said that you already had trouble with the Boltons as well. I wonder how you escaped them."

"Maybe there'll be a time when you'll find out," Theon answered, his jaw tense, now all jest vanished from his face.

Then the carriage stopped.

Irritated, Baelish stuck his head out of the window, scanning their surroundings grimly, but unable to see anything. "What's going on?" he yelled.

The coachman answered something that Arya didn't understand, but it wasn't important either.

"Today’s payday," Theon whispered.

"What did you say?" Baelish turned back at them, when Arya’s handcuffs were already on the carriage floor.

"The time to find out came sooner than expected."

Then she kicked the guard in front of her under the chin, so the pistol previously pointed at her, fell of his hand. She caught it mid-air.

Without a second's hesitation, the bullet was put in Lancel’s head, the bang briefly drowned out the battle sounds outside. There was a good case to believe, the dead man was probably walking again.

As it seemed, this came a little unexpected, for Baelish to stare at her in horror, his face splattered with the blood of his comrade. "How?" he mouthed.

A toothpick appeared between Arya's lips, as another shot was heard. Followed by several more. Presumably, the coachmen were dead now. She turned to Theon. "You can drop yours too."

At first astonished, he shook his hands and the metal fell down. "Nice one," he nodded at her, when the coach door was ripped open, Beric standing outside, slightly smiling.

"Milord, milady. May I present the Rescue Party."

Arya rolled her eyes, climbed over the dead soldier and jumped outside. "You've completely exaggerated it again."

"That's what I said," Gendry wiped his bloody knife off his pants and then walked up to her.

The sight of him made her a little more placable. "Just storm the thing and kill the rest."

He pulled her close against his chest, "exactly," and kissed her.

From the corner of her eye she saw Sandor slit the throat of the last remaining soldier, for her to smile slightly against her husbands’ lips.

They really did exaggerate it.

–

_Meanwhile, in the carriage_

"I guess that's it, then," Theon disclosed, adjusting his hat. "But I think you still got something that belongs to me."

Baelish seemed unable to form words when the door next to him opened. Robb pulled the scarf from his face, an expression in the eyes that didn't look like reunion.

Theon raised his hands to appease him. "All right, all right, I know it was a stupid idea."

He got in and sat next to him. "You can make it up to me later." Still looking worried. "Everything all right with you?"

"Not even a scratch," Theon sneered and then turned back to Baelish. "So where is it?"

His eyes scurried back and forth between the two, remaining silent.

"I bet it's in his shoe," Robb suggested and Theon nodded.

"Which one?"

"Let’s try left."

Theon kicked against the black boot, which made Baelish moan, exposing a confirming clang. "Clever boy."

When he grabbed it, Baelish tried to defend himself, Robb’s blade instantly at his throat. "If I were you, I'd rather stay still now."

"You guys almost there?" Thoros called from outside while Theon turned the red jewel between his fingers. It was as big as an egg and sparkled in the light of the sun shining through the window. Well, if that wasn't worth it?

"Got it," he replied, throwing the stone up once and then making it disappear into the pocket of his shirt. He turned back at Baelish, pointing his hat, "gentleman," and left the carriage.

"What about him?" Clegane's gaze looked as if he wanted to spit on Baelish when Theon and Robb finally sat on the horses.

"Let him live, he won't get far here anyway," Robb said. They had taken the two horses, which had pulled the carriage and without water? He had at most two days.  

They were about to leave when the sound of a pistol filled the air, echoing through the empty dessert, coming from their back.

Turning around, they just saw Arya putting the gun back into her holster. She shrugged. "Sorry, just couldn't resist."

**Author's Note:**

> The title is from the ingenious film [Dead Man Walking](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pg-GMqPHIPQ) with Sean Penn, which has nothing in common with this story, except the name.
> 
> thanks for reading! Kudos & comments are love, so please spread them. <3
> 
> And if you like, do hit me up on [tumblr](https://evax3.tumblr.com/) as evax3 :)


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